The Bridesmaid's Baby Bump

by Kandy Shepherd

  ‘It must have been tough for her. Your mother, I mean.’

  ‘It was,’ he said shortly. ‘One of the good things about having money is that I can make sure she never has to worry again.’ As a teenager he’d been the cause of most of her worries. As an adult he tried to make it up to her.

  ‘So your mother lets you take care of her?’

  ‘I don’t give her much of a choice. I owe her so much and I will do everything I can to repay her. I convinced her to let me buy her a house and a business.’

  ‘What kind of business did you buy for her?’

  Of course Eliza would be interested in that. She was a hard-headed businesswoman herself.

  ‘She worked as a waitress for years. Always wanted her own restaurant—thought she could do it better. Her café in one of the most fashionable parts of Brisbane is doing very well.’ Again, this was nothing an online search wouldn’t be able to find.

  ‘There’s obviously a family instinct for business,’ she said.

  He noted she didn’t ask about his father, and he didn’t volunteer the information.

  ‘There could be something in that,’ he said. ‘She’s on vacation in Tuscany at the moment—doing a residential Italian cooking course and having a ball.’

  Eliza smiled. ‘Not just a vacation. Sounds like it’s work as well.’

  ‘Isn’t that the best type of work? Where the line between work and interest isn’t drawn too rigidly?’

  ‘Absolutely,’ she said. ‘I always enjoyed my jobs in publishing. But Party Queens is my passion. I couldn’t imagine doing anything else now.’

  ‘From what I hear Party Queens is so successful you never will.’

  ‘Fingers crossed,’ she said. ‘I never take anything for granted, and I have to be constantly vigilant that we don’t slip down from our success.’

  She seated herself at the table, facing the view. He swooped the pizza onto the table with an exaggerated flourish, like he’d seen one of his mother’s waiters do. ‘Lunch is served, signorina,’ he said.

  Eliza laughed. ‘You’re quite the professional.’

  ‘A professional heater-upper of pizza?’

  ‘It isn’t burned, and the cheese is all bubbly and perfect. You can take credit for that.’

  Jake sat down opposite her. He wolfed down three large slices of pizza in the time it took Eliza to eat one. ‘Now, tell me about life on the sheep ranch,’ he said. And was surprised when her face stilled and all laughter fled from her expression.

  * * *

  Eliza sighed as she looked across the table at Jake. Her appetite for pizza had suddenly deserted her. ‘Are you sure you want to hear about that?’

  Did she want to relive it all for a man who might turn out to be just a fling? He’d told her something of the childhood that must have shaped the fascinating man he had become. But it was nothing she didn’t already know. She really didn’t like revisiting her childhood and adolescence. Not that it had been abusive, or anything near it. But she had been desperately unhappy and had escaped from home as soon as she could.

  ‘Yes,’ he said. ‘I want to know more about you, Eliza.’

  His gaze was intense on her face. She didn’t know him well enough to know what was genuine interest and what was part of a cultivated image of charm.

  ‘Can I give you the short, sharp, abbreviated version?’ she said.

  ‘Go ahead,’ he said, obviously bemused.

  She took a deep, steadying breath. ‘How about city girl at heart is trapped in a rural backwater where boys are valued more than girls?’

  ‘It’s a start.’

  ‘You want more?’

  He nodded.

  ‘Okay...smart girl with ambition has hopes ridiculed.’

  ‘Getting there,’ he said. ‘What’s next?’

  ‘Smart girl escapes to city and family never forgives her.’

  ‘Why was that?’ He frowned.

  She knew there was danger now—of her voice getting wobbly. ‘No easy answer. How about massive years-long drought ruins everything?’ She took in another deep breath. ‘It’s actually difficult to make light of such disaster.’

  ‘I can see that,’ he said.

  She wished he’d say there was no need to go on, but he didn’t.

  ‘Have you ever seen those images of previously lush green pastures baked brown and hard and cracked? Where farmers have to shoot their stock because there’s no water, no feed? Shoot sheep that have not only been bred on your land so you care about their welfare, but also represent income and investment and your family’s daily existence?’

  ‘Yes. I’ve seen the pictures. Read the stories. It’s terrible.’

  ‘That was my family’s story. Thankfully my father didn’t lose his land or his life, like others did, before the rains eventually came. But he changed. Became harsher. Less forgiving. Impossible to live with. He took it out on my mother. And nothing I could do was right.’

  Jake’s head was tilted in what seemed like real interest. ‘In what way?’

  ‘Even at the best of times life in the country tends to be more traditional. Men are outdoors, doing the hard yakka—do you have that expression for hard work in Queensland?’

  ‘Of course,’ he said.

  ‘Men are outside and women inside, doing the household chores to support the men. In physical terms it makes a lot of sense. And a lot of country folk like it just the way it’s always been.’

  ‘But you didn’t?’

  ‘No. School was where I excelled—maths and legal studies were my forte. My domestic skills weren’t highly developed. I just wasn’t that interested. And I wasn’t great at farm work either, though I tried.’ She flexed her right arm so her bicep showed, defined and firm. ‘I’m strong, but not anywhere near as strong as my brothers. In my father’s eyes I was useless. He wouldn’t even let me help with the accounts; that was not my business. In a time of drought I was another mouth to feed and I didn’t pull my weight.’

  She could see she’d shocked Jake.

  ‘Surely your father wouldn’t really have thought that?’ he said.

  She remembered he’d grown up without a father.

  ‘I wanted to be a lawyer. My father thought lawyers were a waste of space. My education was a drain on the farm. Looking back, I can see now how desperate he must have been. If he’d tried to communicate with me I might have understood. But he just walked all over me—as usual.’

  ‘Seems like I’ve got you to open a can of worms. I’m sorry.’

  She shrugged. ‘You might as well hear the end of it. I was at boarding school. One day when I was seventeen I was called to the principal’s office to find my father there to take me home so I could help my mother. For good. It was my final year of high school. I wasn’t to be allowed to sit my end-of-school exams.’

  Jake frowned. ‘You’re right—your dad must have been desperate. If there was no money to feed stock, school fees would have been out of the question.’

  ‘For me. Not for my younger brother. My father found the fees for him.’ She couldn’t keep the bitterness from her voice. ‘A boy who was never happier than when he was goofing off.’

  ‘So the country girl went home? Is that how the story ended?’

  She shook her head. ‘Thankfully, no. I was a straight-A student—the school captain.’

  ‘Why does that not surprise me?’ said Jake wryly.

  ‘The school got behind me. There was a scholarship fund. My family were able to plead hardship. I got to sit my final exams.’

  ‘And blitzed them, no doubt?’

  ‘Top of the state in three out of five subjects.’

  ‘Your father must have been proud of you then.’

  ‘If he was, he never said so. I’d humiliated
him with the scholarship, and by refusing to go home with him.’

  ‘Hardly a humiliation. Half of the eastern states were in one of the most severe droughts in Australia’s history. Even I knew that at the time.’

  ‘Try telling him that. He’d call it pride. I’d call it pig-headed stubbornness. The only thing that brought me and my father together was horses. We both loved them. I was on my first horse before I was two years old. The day our horses had to go was pretty well the end of any real communication between me and my father.’

  There was real sympathy in his green eyes. ‘You didn’t have to shoot—?’

  ‘We were lucky. A wonderful horse rescue charity took them to a different part of the state that wasn’t suffering as much. The loss hit my father really hard.’

  ‘And you too?’

  She bowed her head. ‘Yes.’

  Jake was quiet for a long moment before he spoke again. ‘You don’t have to talk about this any more if you don’t want to. I didn’t realise how painful it would be for you.’

  ‘S’okay,’ she said. ‘I might as well gallop to the finish.’ She picked up her fork, put it down again, twisted a paper serviette between her fingers. ‘Country girl wins scholarship to university in Sydney to study business degree. Leaves home, abandoning mother to her menfolk and a miserable marriage. No one happy about it but country girl...’ Her voice trailed away.

  Jake got up from the table and came to her side. He leaned down from behind her and wrapped big, strong muscular arms around her. ‘Country girl makes good in the big city. That’s a happy ending to the story.’

  ‘I guess it is,’ she said, leaning back against him, enjoying his strength and warmth, appreciating the way he was comforting her. ‘My life now is just the way I want it.’

  Except she couldn’t have a baby. Underpinning it all was the one area of her life she’d been unable to control, where the body she kept so healthy and strong had let her down so badly.

  She twisted around to look up at him. ‘And Day One of my vacation is going perfectly.’

  ‘So how about Days Two, Three and Four?’ he said. ‘If you were by yourself at your resort what would you be doing?’

  ‘Relaxing. Lying by the pool.’

  ‘We can do that here.’

  ‘Swimming?’

  ‘The pool awaits,’ he said, gesturing to the amazing wet-edge pool outside the window, its aquamarine water glistening in the afternoon sunlight.

  ‘That water is calling to me,’ she said, twisting herself up and out of the chair so she stood in the circle of his arms, looking up at him. She splayed her hands against his chest, still revelling in the fact she could touch him.

  For these few days he was hers.

  His eyes narrowed. ‘I’m just getting to know you, Eliza. But I suspect there’s a list you want to check off before you fly home—you might even have scheduled some activities in to your days.’

  ‘List? Schedules?’ she said, pretending to look around her. ‘Have you been talking to Andie? She always teases me about the way I order my day.’

  ‘I’m not admitting to anything,’ he said. ‘So there is a list?’

  ‘We-e-ell...’ She drew out the word. ‘There are a few things I’d like to do. But only if you want to do them as well.’

  ‘Fire away,’ he said.

  ‘One: go snorkelling on the Great Barrier Reef. Two: play golf on one of the fabulous courses up here. Then—’

  Jake put up one large, well-shaped hand in a halt sign. ‘Just wait there. Did I hear you say “play golf”?’

  ‘Uh, yes. But you don’t have to, of course. I enjoy golf. When I was in magazine advertising sales it was a very useful game to play. I signed a number of lucrative deals after a round with senior decision-makers.’

  He lifted her up and swooped her around the room. ‘Golf! The girl plays golf. One of my favourite sports.’

  ‘You being a senior decision-maker and all,’ she said with a smile.

  ‘Me being a guy who likes to swing a club and slam a little white ball,’ he said.

  ‘In my case a neon pink ball. I can see it better on the fairway,’ she said.

  ‘She plays with a pink ball? Of course she does. Are you the perfect woman, Eliza Dunne?’ He sounded more amused than mocking. ‘I like snorkelling and diving too. Port Douglas is the right place to come for that. All can be arranged. Do you want to start checking off your list with a swim?’

  ‘You bet.’

  He looked deep into her face. Eliza thrilled to the message in his green eyes.

  ‘The pool is very private. Swimsuits are optional.’

  Eliza smiled—a long, slow smile of anticipation. ‘Sounds very good to me.’

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  ELIZA SOON REALISED that a vacation in the company of a billionaire was very different from the vacation she had planned to spend on her own. Her own schedule of playing tourist and enjoying some quiet treatments in her resort spa had completely gone by the board.

  That was okay, but she hadn’t had any time to plan her strategy to keep the company thriving without the hands-on involvement of Gemma, Crown Princess of Montovia—and that worried her. Of course Princess Gemma’s name on the Party Queens masthead brought kudos by the bucketload—and big-spending clients they might otherwise have struggled to attract. However, Gemma’s incredible skills with food were sorely missed. Party Queens was all Eliza had in terms of income and interest. She needed to give the problem her full attention.

  But Jake was proving the most enthralling of distractions.

  She had stopped insisting on paying for her share of the activities he had scheduled for her. Much as she valued her independence, she simply couldn’t afford a vacation Jake-style. Her wish to go snorkelling on the Great Barrier Reef had been granted—just her and Jake on a privately chartered glass-bottom boat. Their games of golf had been eighteen holes on an exclusive private course with a waiting list for membership. Dinner was at secluded tables in booked-out restaurants.

  Not that she was complaining at her sudden elevation in lifestyle, but there was a nagging feeling that she had again allowed herself to be taken over by a man. A charming man, yes, but controlling in his own quietly determined way.

  When she’d protested Jake had said he was treating her, and wanted to make her vacation memorable. It would have seemed churlish to disagree. Just being with him was memorable enough—there was no doubt he was fabulous company. But she felt he was only letting her see the Jake he wanted her to see—which was frustrating. It was almost as if there were two different people: pre-divorce Jake and after-divorce Jake. After she’d spilled about her childhood, about her fears for the business, she’d expected some reciprocal confidences. There had been none but the most superficial.

  On the afternoon of Day Four, after a long walk along the beach followed by a climb up the steep drive back home, Eliza was glad to dive into Jake’s wet-edge pool. He did the same.

  After swimming a few laps she rested back against him in the water, his arms around her as they both kicked occasionally to keep afloat. The water was the perfect temperature, and the last sunlight of the day filtered through the palm trees. Tropical birds flew around the trees, squawking among themselves as they settled for the evening. In the distance was the muted sound of the waves breaking on the beach below.

  ‘This is utter bliss,’ she said. ‘My definition of heaven.’

  The joy in her surroundings, in him, was bittersweet as it was about to end—but she couldn’t share that thought with Jake. This was just a four-day fling.

  ‘In that case you must be an angel who’s flown down to keep me company,’ he said.

  ‘That’s very poetic of you,’ she said, twisting her head to see his face.

  He grinned. ‘I have my creative mom
ents,’ he replied as he dropped a kiss on her forehead.

  It was a casual kiss she knew didn’t mean anything other than to signify their ease with the very satisfying physical side of this vacation interlude.

  ‘I could see you with a magnificent set of angel man wings, sprouting from your shoulder blades,’ she said. ‘White, tipped with gold.’ And no clothes at all.

  ‘All the better to fly you away with me,’ he said. ‘You must have wings too.’

  ‘Blue and silver, I think,’ she mused.

  She enjoyed their light-hearted banter. After three days with him she didn’t expect anything deeper or more meaningful. He was charming, fun, and she enjoyed being with him.

  But he wasn’t the Jake Marlowe who had so intrigued her with hints of hidden depths when she’d first met him. That Jake Marlowe had been as elusive as the last fleeting strains of the Strauss waltz lilting through the corridor as she had fled that ballroom in Montovia. She wondered if he had really existed outside her imagination. Had she been so smitten with his fallen angel looks that she’d thought there was more there for her than physical attraction?

  ‘We did an angel-themed party a few months ago,’ she said. ‘That’s what made me think about the wings.’

  ‘You feasted on angel food cake, no doubt?’

  ‘A magnificent celestial-themed supper was served,’ she said. ‘Star-shaped cookies, rainbow cupcakes, cloud-shaped meringues. Gemma planned it all from Montovia and Andie made sure it happened.’

  The angel party had worked brilliantly. The next party, when Gemma had been too caught up with her royal duties to participate fully in the planning, hadn’t had quite the same edge. Four days of vacation on, and Eliza was still no closer to finding a solution to the lack of Gemma’s hands-on presence in the day-to-day running of the company. Party Queens was heading to crisis point.